


Thin Red Line

by Stariceling



Category: Toriko (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Bloodplay, Hair bondage, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 19:20:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stariceling/pseuds/Stariceling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sunny winds his hair tight enough to draw blood, etching red across his lover's skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thin Red Line

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Semianonymity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semianonymity/gifts), [Firen](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Firen).



> Random Sunny/??? hair bondage and bloodplay snippit. Because… I don’t even know why. I blame Renren. And Semi. This is what you get for encouraging me.

It starts with one hair winding around a limb, constricting, invisibly denting the skin until the pressure is too much, until it slices through. A line of welling blood forms, almost too slight to feel.

And then another, and another, tracing across bare skin in smooth, sure lines.

The lines curve close to one another, close enough for blood to erase the boundary between one and the next, but they never cross. Sunny would never put something so vulgar as an 'X' in his lover's skin.

The distance between them is only crossed by the sound of harsh breaths and a moaned request.

“I can already taste you,” Sunny responds. Yet he moves, graceful to the point of carelessness.

Sunny keeps his hands to himself, careful not to smudge the etching of blood. The blood is already starting to bead, to obey gravity, to creep slowly free from Sunny’s perfect lines. He still won’t close the gap with anything but his mouth.

It’s difficult to be still, not to writhe and luxuriate in the sensation of being held by countless thin lines of fire. When willpower strains too far, the smallest possible response is to lick across the lines of blood banding one arm, still encircled by hairs fine and strong enough to cut an incautious tongue.

“S’disgustin’,” Sunny mutters, but he doesn’t refuse a second kiss sweetened with a hint of blood. He doesn’t loosen even a single hair.


End file.
